


When The World Stops Spinning (I'll know it's you)

by Hyeyu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Elements from 'The Princess and the Frog', Iwaizumi's Life is Suffering, M/M, Magical Realism, Pining, Post-Canon, Romance, Very Minor Fairytale Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 12:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13704942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyeyu/pseuds/Hyeyu
Summary: “Let me get this straight.” Hajime presses the palm of his hand to his forehead, trying in vain to iron out the irritated furrow that had lodged itself between his eyebrows. He doesn’t have time for this; there are at least three assignments in varying states of completion on his desk. One of them is due in two days and he’s barely started on it. “You’re claiming you have been cursed.”“Mm hmm.”“Magically.”“Yup.”Oikawa has been cursed to kiss fifty people in a week or else become a toad. Iwaizumi did not sign up for this.





	When The World Stops Spinning (I'll know it's you)

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to try writing a magical realism fic without any actual magical realism in it. *jazz hands* It'll make more sense eventually (I hope). 
> 
> Title from 'Freal Luv' by Far East Movement & Marshmello (ft. Tinashe and Chanyeol).

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

“Language, Iwa-chan. Besides, when have I ever lied to you? I mean,” Oikawa hurriedly amends under Hajime’s unimpressed glare, “I may have exaggerated details before-”

“‘Exaggerated details’.”

“But I have always been honest! With you anyway.” His best friend’s grin is brighter than the fluorescent light in their kitchen, all teeth and practised charm that doesn’t work on Hajime. (Outwardly anyway. Oikawa doesn’t need to know that Hajime’s a little weak to his smiles.)

“Uh huh. ‘Honest’.”

“Really, Iwa-chan, you need to stop repeating my words like some kind of grumpy spiky-haired parrot. For one, I don’t think you’d make a very cute bird.”

“Let me get this straight.” Hajime presses the palm of his hand to his forehead, trying in vain to iron out the irritated furrow that had lodged itself between his eyebrows. He doesn’t have time for this; there are at least three assignments in varying states of completion on his desk. One of them is due in two days and he’s barely started on it. “You’re claiming you have been cursed.”

“Mm hmm.”

“Magically.”

“Yup.”

“ _Magically._ ”

“That’s what I said the first time. Really, Iwa-chan, an uncute parrot.”

“To…” The ache growing at Hajime’s temples intensifies at the pure idiocy he’s about to spout unironically, and he grimaces. “To kiss fifty people before Friday next week, or be transformed into a frog.” The words do not sound any better repeated. “Seriously -”

“Not a frog; a toad,” Oikawa corrects him with his trademark nonchalance, which really has no place in this ridiculous conversation. “There’s a difference. Didn’t you pay attention in Biology?”

“Do you hear yourself, Shittykawa?” Hajime slams his free hand against the doorframe of his bedroom, ignoring the pain that bites into his palm in favor of watching the brief wince that shudders across Oikawa’s artificially chipper facade. “Look, I’m really busy, okay? if this is some weird prank thing you got put up to, blink twice to let me know there’s a camera on you or something.”

“Rude, Iwa-chan - why would I prank you of all people?”

“For the same reason that you’d suddenly claim to be magically cursed?” Hajime huffs, shaking his head. “Magic. _Magic,_ what the fuck even, Oikawa - it doesn’t _exist. It’s not real._ ”

“It is though. In my case, at least.” The setter’s tone is still airy, chiffon over the ridiculous weight of his claim and Hajime just wants to seize Oikawa and shake him until the utter stupidity of the ‘curse’ sinks in.

“Who the fuck would even want to curse you, idiot?”

“Well, a lot of people, actually. Ushiwaka-chan, for one-”

“ _Oikawa_.”

“Oh come on, Iwa-chan, it’s not like it’s going to be hard to break the curse anyway. I’m physically appealing, popular,” Oikawa continues over Hajime’s incredulous snort. “And adept at reading social cues. We’ll just need to round up fifty people.”

“Fifty people who want to kiss you voluntarily, Shittykawa.”

“Exactly! Easy stuff.”

“You sure you weren’t tricked by someone who just wanted a bad excuse to kiss you?”

“I’m sure.” Oikawa pauses, tapping his chin. “Unless she’s some sort of cougar. I mean, she looked like she was old enough to pass for my grandmother.”

“Your grandmo - Oikawa, what the fuck was an old woman doing cursing you in the university gymnasium?!”

“Who knows? Really, Iwa-chan, you need to stop frowning so hard. What if the wind blows and your face gets stuck that way? Especially since magic exists now and all - it might happen.”

“Oikawa.” It’s difficult to ball up all the incredulity he’s feeling and inject it into one word, but Hajime think he’s done a fairly decent job at it.

“You really like saying my name tonight, huh?” Something crumbles a little in Oikawa’s expression and the grin dims around the edges. “It’s ok, Iwa-chan, I’ve got this. I just thought you should know, just in case you start thinking I’ve lost focus on volleyball or something. I don’t need you being brutishly violent on top of the curse-breaking and all.”

It’s a way out, and Hajime should seize it immediately. No matter how many times Hajime may attempt to squash his friend’s ego, Oikawa is right: he _is_ good-looking. That, combined with his reputation as Chuo University’s star volleyball setter and all his blatant pandering to the fangirls that turn up at college meets means that the brunet probably won’t have too much trouble finding people to make out with him right past that fifty-people mark.

Besides, what’s Hajime supposed to do to help? Blatant skepticism aside, Hajime’s a little more brusque, a second-stringer on the volleyball team, a Sports Science major. Aside from his classmates, his circle of friends largely overlaps with Oikawa’s; he’s not going to be able to drastically increase his best friend’s opportunities to kiss more people. Plus, a week of helping Oikawa is a week being distracted, and the assignments on his desk aren’t going to write themselves.

More importantly (most importantly, really), Hajime isn’t sure he wants to watch Oikawa kissing others. Something buried deep inside him curdles at the thought alone, and he isn’t sure he wants to encourage it to swell into something more bitter.

But it’s Oikawa, the friend Hajime’s grown up with. Oikawa, who is stubbornly independent beyond the point of rationality sometimes. Oikawa, who keeps his emotions close to his chest and doubts even closer. Oikawa, who’s somehow chosen to trust him with this problem, as mind-boggling as it may sound, and is indirectly soliciting his support.

Fuck if Hajime’s abandoning him now.

So he heaves a theatrical sigh, smacking Oikawa’s shoulder a little too hard as he mentally bids his weekend goodbye. “It’s not brutish violence if it’s justified, Shittykawa. Besides, someone’s got to keep an eye on things; knowing you, you’ll mess up the actual number, and end up being one short or something.”

“Please, my maths is stellar, Iwa-chan.” But Oikawa’s grin is more of a relieved smile now, softer and more genuine, more _Tooru_ and Hajime finds his own lips twitching upwards begrudgingly.

“Shut up. I’m just doing this so that I won’t need to explain to your mother why her ugly son is now an ugly amphibian.”

“Pshhh, I would be an adorable toad, Iwa-chan. The adorablest.”

“Frogs, toads, neither of them can play volleyball, and I’d like to avoid listening to depressed croaks for the rest of my life. Okay, let’s start with a list - might as well clear off the easy suspects who’ll actually want to suck face with you. Got any names in mind?”

\---

The Quest to Get Oikawa to Kiss Fifty People (his words, not Hajime’s) kicks off on a slow but steady start. “I don’t want to kiss just anyone, Iwa-chan, especially since it has to be lip-on-lip contact,” Oikawa reasons, hair freshly fluffy from a shower as he eyes the list of suggestions that Hajime hands him.

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “What, suddenly you’re a prude?”

“You literally just wrote ‘all the screaming Oikawa Tooru groupies in the gym’ at the very top.”

“What can I say, I call it as I see it.”

“ If I kiss some of them in public, I’m going to have to kiss the whole lot to be fair to all of them. And, to be honest, I don’t really want to kiss most of them, much less the whole lot.”

“So kiss them in private?”

“But what if I get herpes?”

“At least you’d be a human with herpes, not a STD-free frog. Toad.”

“Iwa-chaaaaaaaan.”

The brunet agrees easily enough to kiss their old volleyball teammates though, much to Hajime’s dual relief and surprise. At the very least, he supposes that this ludicrous exercise will have quietly confirm a question he’s always wondered about Oikawa’s sexuality. He’s not sure if that eases his mind, or makes it worse.

Hanamaki gives in with minimal excuses on Oikawa’s part, laughing as he puckers his lips obnoxiously. “C’mon, Oikawa, lay it on me. Make it a good one, okay - I paid eight thousand yen to come to Tokyo just for this.”

Matsukawa merely rolls his eyes as Oikawa loudly claims to be worth every yen of that train ticket, swooping in and pecking his ex-captain on the lips before either he or Hanamaki could so much as blink. “Okay, I’m done.”

“One down,” Hajime notes, ignoring both Hanamaki and Oikawa’s appalled whining. “Forty-nine to go.”

Oikawa also collects a kiss from Yahaba on the same day, Seijou’s current setter blushing furiously as Hanamaki claps him on the back heartily enough to almost push back into a second kiss.

“Woah, good technique right there, Yahaba-chan!”

“Um.” Hajime doesn’t think he’s ever seen Yahaba so red before. “T-thanks? Uh, Oikawa-senpai, you promised something about correcting my jump serve if I visited you?...”

Kissing some of their current volleyball teammates is also fairly easy, if a little expensive on the wallet. “We just won our practice match against Waseda; that’s a good enough reason to call for a celebration. If we get them drunk enough, I should be able to plonk kisses on some of the lightweights that they won’t remember properly afterwards.”

“Just like someone during first week during orientation, huh?” Hajime notes, implacable as he fills in a lab report at his desk. Oikawa shudders, rolling over in the small bed to hug Hajime’s bolster.

“Let’s not bring up bad memories; I can feel puke rising up my throat just thinking about it.”

“I’ll drag up all the memories I want until you get off my bed, asshole. I don’t remember giving you permission to come into my room, much less leave your dandruff all over my pillow.”

“Oh my god, I don’t have dandruff - take that back!”

Having the celebration at the local bar also sees Oikawa bumping into classmates and acquaintances he approves of, dropping ‘drunk’ kisses liberally as Hajime keeps tally at the bar. By the end of the night, their list stands at respectable twelve people.

Oikawa also takes the list with him to classes on Monday, bringing it back with a handful of extra names scrawled into the blanks. Hajime mirrors his triumphant smirk with his own, even as an odd heaviness settles in for the long haul at the sight of the familiar lopsided grin, a far cry from Oikawa’s more public smile.

\---

(An interlude:

“Hey, so I was thinking: we should drop by Tokyo University, maybe stop by their volleyball practice-”

“I’m not kissing Ushiwaka-chan.”

“But-”

“ _No.”_

“You need fifty people, Trashykawa. Fifty. If we can get Ushiwaka to agree -”

“Iwa-chan, I would much rather kiss every single person between here and Tokyo University before I kiss that bastard. Hell, I would sooner learn to eat flies with a prehensile tongue than even consider the _idea_ of sticking my current tongue down that throat.”

“Ewww.”

“Exactly.”

"No, I meant, eww at you having a prehensile tongue. What an image. I'm gonna have nightmares tonight.")

\---

By Wednesday, it’s less about searching out kisses than it is restricting them. The rumor that Oikawa’s giving out kisses has started circulating through some unknown college grapevine, especially following the Celebratory Night out. As to why he's doing it - for science, leisure, some odd psychology experiment - who the hell cares? The point is that Oikawa ‘Volleyball Hotshot’ Tooru is free for the kissing, and one should carpe diem before he changes his mind.

Girls start accosting Oikawa around campus, the bolder ones waiting at the entrance of their apartment block. Guys are a little more covert, waiting inside toilets and behind shelves in the university’s library. The curse-breaking progress has evolved (devolved) into a weird hybrid between a kissing booth and a Where’s-Waldo game that Hajime definitely did not sign up for.

On top of all that, Oikawa’s taken to rating the quality of the kisses he’s received on some bizarre Likert scale.

“That one’s definitely a three,” he says, pulling a face after another girl stumbles away from their library table giggling. If Hajime remembers correctly, she is one of the top students in his Economics class. “More enthusiasm than technique, and it was a bit sloppy. Definitely awkward though; I think she needs to angle her head a bit more.”

“Trashykawa,” Hajime says pleasantly, chucking his eraser at Oikawa’s head for added reinforcement. “If you can’t be polite about it, shut the fuck up.”

Still, despite the irritation at his daily routines being constantly interrupted, Hajime cannot find it within himself to really begrudge the would-be kiss candidates. Regardless of their different features, heights, genders even, they all came wearing the same hopeful-eager expression Hajime only hopes doesn’t flit over his own face whenever Oikawa is nearby.

On top of that, Oikawa’s clingy proximity seems to have multiplied since the start of this whole ‘ordeal’. “How else will you be able to keep accurate records, Iwa-chan?” the setter had pointed out in a tone that bordered too much on deceptively reasonable for Hajime’s liking. “This way, I’ll be spared your boorish skepticism, and you won’t have to ask me a billion questions.”

“Maybe this is my own fault. Maybe I was a serial murderer in my past life and this is my penance: being saddled with you,” Hajime mutters. Oikawa huffs in indignation, draping himself loosely over Hajime’s back.

“Please, Iwa-chan, you were probably a venerated monk.”

“One who murdered a fellow monk then. Or monks. Plural.”

“Rude - it’s a _privilege_ to have me as a friend. Everyone loves me.” Oikawa’s smile is no less blinding viewed from the corner of his eye. “Including you.”

Depressingly, Hajime can’t really argue with that. Instead, he drives a finger into Oikawa’s side, right where he’s most ticklish, snickering as the brunet flings himself off Hajime with a high-pitched squeal.

Secretly, maybe Hajime had indeed been a venerated monk, to be able to walk beside Oikawa the way he does in this lifetime. But that’s beside the point. Long story short, getting people to kiss Oikawa becomes significantly easier.

What’s odd, however, is how fussy Oikawa becomes after they hit the halfway point on their list. He starts arriving slightly late to volleyball practices, slipping in and out of the lesser known exit out back to avoid the small crowd that accumulates along the outskirts of the gymnasium. He ducks out of his classes early, starts using indirect routes to move around the campus.

“I never thought I’d see the day you avoid girls like they have the plague.” Hajime doesn’t bother suppressing the laughter that slips out as Oikawa hastily ducks out of sight for the fifth time that morning. “You know what; maybe _you_ were the murderer in your past life, and this curse is, like, some odd form of karma. I may have to make a shrine visit this weekend to give thanks properly.”

“Not funny, Iwa-chan.” The neat hairstyle of three hours ago is no longer intact, dishevelled and messy as Oikawa peeks warily over the arm of the cafe couch he had dived behind. “Really, there’s no respect for privacy left these days.”

“Funny declaration coming from you, Kiss-Collector-san.”

“Cut me a break, Iwa-chan. You know I’m only doing this because of the curs-”

“Oh, is that Suzuki-san coming this way?” Hajime grins, leaning over and stealing a leisurely sip of Oikawa’s mocha latte after the taller boy disappears under the table with another undignified squeak.

_\---_

Twenty five to thirty, thirty to forty, forty to forty seven - the dawn of the last day of the curse’s allocated week arrives accompanied by an unexpected storm, and profanities roll off Hajime’s lips as he drags the laundry in from where it had been draped on the balcony.

According to Oikawa, the curse’s actual deadline is 6:14 pm, as opposed to the more traditional twelve midnight. “This isn’t Cinderella,” he had said, nose scrunching up. “Plus, we’re Japanese. The weird obaasan cursed me at 6:14 pm; it only makes sense that the curse is punctual to the second.”

Three more people before 6:14 pm. Hajime idly makes a mental catalogue of their most eligible neighbours as he sorts the damp and salvageable clothes into separate piles. Oikawa’s kissed most of the eager ones already when they came knocking at their door, but there’s bound to be a few left that could be convinced to kiss Oikawa casually. Hmmm, isn’t Matsumoto’s sister supposed to be visiting him this weekend?...

“Bluuurgh.” The front door creaks open to admit a bedraggled Oikawa, rain sloughing off every dismal angle of his body as he drops his equally-wet bag at the entrance and shuffles into the kitchen.

“You’re mopping all those puddles later. And there’s extra coffee in the jug near the fridge; don’t finish it all off.” Oikawa mumbles something inaudible, and something hits the ground with a wet slopping sound. It doesn’t take long for Hajime to finish the sorting, and he picks up a towel from the dry stack before getting up and moving to the kitchen, frowning at the pile of soaked t-shirt on the floor. “You’re picking that up too.”

Oikawa grunts, perched vulture-like at the kitchen table, hands curled around an almost empty mug. Hajime squints at it, eyes narrowed. “Hey, isn’t that mine?”

“Mine now.” Oikawa yelps as Hajime unceremoniously drops the towel on top of his head. “Oh yeah, I kissed two people on the way back.That brings us to forty-nine, right?”

“Get your own damn coffee next time, Trashykawa. And yep, it does. Do I want to know who they are?”

Oikawa’s grin is full of mischief. “Sawamura Daichi. And Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“...For real?” At the brunet’s nod, Hajime whistles in begrudging admiration. “Not bad. Kuroo, I can understand, but how did you talk Sawamura into it, of all people?”

A languid shrug; Hajime tries not to stare at the muscles moving under the damp skin. “I told them the truth. Tettsun thought it was hilarious, and you know Dai-chan pretty much gives in whenever Tettsun’s concerned.”

“Fair enough.” One left. Hajime doesn’t have time to think too much about it before Oikawa’s leaning forward, impatiently swiping his fringe out of his face as he pins Hajime with a beseeching look.

“Say, Iwa-chan, would you…” An inadvertent puff of cheeks that’s quickly deflated; Oikawa’s frustrated. “Geh. I mean, my list. Since there’s only one spot left, can you?...”

Hajime snorts. “Spit it out already, idiot.”

“Can you kiss me?”

“...Eh?”

In hindsight, it’s kind of funny; Hajime has dreamt of kissing Oikawa numerous times, has low-key judged some of the people Oikawa’s kissed this past week alone, even helped compile a kiss-list for him. But not once, not a single time all week, had the thought of actually planting one on Oikawa cross his mind.

Yet here Oikawa is, practically presenting the opportunity to him on a golden platter. He’ll never know that Hajime actually wants to kiss him, not if Hajime does it under the pretense of helping him with the curse.

Something flickers briefly across Oikawa’s features at Hajime’s extended silence, and he shifts in his seat. “Feel honoured, Iwa-chan; I’m practically offering you something people have been stalking me for all week. Plus, all this practice has improved my already amazing kissing skills; you could probably pick something up from my superior technique.”

But Hajime knows how to read in between the lines. _Do you not want to kiss me? t_ he hunched shoulders ask. _Am I not good enough_? the too-tight smirk conveys, backed up by the restless tapping of long fingers on the rim of the coffee mug.

He’ll never know if Hajime does it now. Plus, he actually needs the kiss. Hajime will be doing him a favor.

So why does it feel like cheating somehow? Worse still, what if Oikawa figures out Hajime’s feelings somehow?

“It’s just me, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa’s voice is even smaller now, low in a poorly disguised effort to be reassuring. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

_Ah, damn it._

Oikawa’s shoulder is cool to the touch, soft and rain-damp as Hajime slides his hand up the slope of skin to curl fingers into the wet curls at the brunet’s nape. A light tug, and Oikawa tilts forward easily, wide eyes already fluttering close. Seated like this, he’s shorter than Hajime, eyelashes fanned along flushed cheeks. Hajime doesn’t dare to brush a thumb over Oikawa’s pulse point, doesn’t dare to check if it’s racing the way his is.

So he leans down and meets Oikawa halfway. Just a brush of lips - he mustn’t be greedy, or he’ll show his hand - but it is perfect, too much, too little.

Then Oikawa’s hands are gripping Hajime’s own shoulders, and he’s pressing in, mouth parting pliant and easy as he steals Hajime’s breath effortlessly. “Oh. _Oh_.”

Hajime should break the kiss off, laugh it off awkwardly, maybe even make a lame joke. Stop it before Oikawa discovers how pathetic his best friend is, how far gone he is for Oikawa.

In that particular moment though, Hajime cannot care less about the repercussions.

Oikawa’s eyes are still closed when he finally sits back, face lit up the way it does whenever he nails a particularly difficult volleyball technique. “It’s you. I was hoping - I didn’t - Iwa-chan, it’s you, it’s _you._ ”

“Huh?”

Oikawa laughs, smile dazzling and wide. “You’re my true love, Iwa-chan!”

“What?” The dazed euphoria evaporates immediately, a fearful chill instantly settling into its place. “What are you talking about?”

“The curse, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa smacks at his arm, laughter creasing his eyes too much to see the color draining from Hajime’s face. “It’s broken, but it told me who my true love is, and it’s you!”

“...the curse was supposed to turn you into a frog.”

“I mean, yes, that was a part of it, but there was another bit that said if you kissed your true love, it’ll reveal -”

“Stop it. It’s not funny.”

“No, Iwa-chan, you don’t get it! The curse said -”

“I swear to god, Oikawa!” Something crashes when Oikawa stumbles back against the table, but the tinny buzzing building behind Hajime’s ears mute it out.

_He knows?_

_He knows. But how?_

_The curse. That fucking curse!_

His palms still tingle where they had shoved Oikawa away, and Hajime curls them into fists. “Look, I played along with your fucking lie-”

“I’m not lying!” Oikawa might be screaming for all Hajime knows. Everything seemed submerged underwater, distant and out of reach. “I really had to kiss fifty people or else I’d turn into a toad. But, if amongst the fifty people is my true love, their name would be revealed to me by the fiftieth kiss!”

“How convenient.” His voice is rising, but he can’t stop it, fear an inexorable wave cresting over him. “Fuck, Oikawa. There are better ways to mock me, you know.”

“I’m not-!” That familiar mouth, so soft and warm earlier, thins into a hard line. He’s done arguing, emotions receding into the blank poker face he employs whenever he’s in a pinch. Hajime’s seen it countless times, recognizes it for the defense it is.

Yesterday, he could have taken down that defense, dismantle it piece by piece to see what it concealed. Yesterday, Hajime would have easily stepped in, buttressing Oikawa's walls with his own even as he yelled at his friend for shouldering problems on his own again.

This time though...this time, Hajime's the problem.

Abruptly, he turns and stalks out of their apartment, away from Oikawa and the curse he wished had never entered their lives to begin with.

\---

It doesn’t take long for the flare of anger to recede into remorse. Hajime has many flaws, but a long-burning temper is not one of them.

Besides, if he’s being honest with himself (and honesty is one of Hajime’s stronger traits), the only one he’s really angry with is himself. Oikawa hadn’t forced him to go along with the curse-breaking, hadn’t even coerced him into that last kiss. Sure, he had kept information from Hajime, but that was his call to make. Assuming that the curse really did tell him of Hajime’s feelings, well, it was Hajime’s own fault for having them in the first place.

Thus, if anyone is to blame for the mess earlier, it was Hajime himself.

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier to return to their shared apartment. Dragging a palm over his face, Hajime sighs, dripping embarrassment and shame onto the welcome mat before their front door.

Oikawa is the first thing he sees when he finally draws enough courage together to open the door, the brunet jerking upright from where he is slumped by the doorway.

“Iwa…” He falters, fingers curled tight around a towel. “Iwa-chan, I. You...you’re drenched. You need...you’ll catch a cold.”

“...Ah.”

More hesitation. Hajime reaches out just as Oikawa steps closer, both freezing at the sudden movement. Then, Oikawa visibly exhales and steps into Hajime’s space, bringing the towel up and around Hajime’s shoulders.

Something in Hajime relaxes then; whatever happened here, they will be alright somehow.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Hajime.” Oikawa’s hands drop from the towel, but he doesn’t move away. “Not to you. I just...it felt...weird? To tell you? Ahhh, what the fuck am I saying.” A self-deprecating chuckle, and Oikawa rubs at his face. “I didn’t tell you about the true-love clause because I was afraid you wouldn’t kiss me if you knew.”

“Mm.”

“I didn’t ask to be cursed, Hajime. Please.” Plaintive and pleading, two words not often associated with Oikawa. “Please, I wouldn’t, I would never risk our friendship over - I _would never_.”

“It’s okay,” Hajime finds himself saying, reaching out to pull Oikawa into a hug. A familiar if uncommon gesture, freely offered whenever one of them needed the extra comfort. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“I’m not sorry.” Oikawa’s eyes are bright and determined. “No, I’m sorry for not telling you the whole truth, but. Hajime, I - I can’t, I won’t apologize for being glad it’s you. I _wanted_ it to be you, actually.”

In response, Hajime leans forwards. This time, Oikawa is the one who meets him halfway. More than halfway even, given how Hajime stumbles backwards from the unexpected weight, bringing them both tumbling awkwardly to the ground.

“Owwwww.”

“‘Ow’ is right - Get your bony elbow off my stomach.”

“My strong, muscular elbow, you mean.” Oikawa rolls until he’s positioned beside Hajime, and what a sight the two of them must make, lying down in the hallway corridor just inside the doorway.

“We really need to vacuum soon.”

‘Mmm.” Oikawa curls into Hajime’s side, crowding close enough for their legs to tangle. “And you’re still wet, eww.”

“Says the one clinging to me like some oversized limpet.” Hajime closes his eyes. “The curse is all done now, right? No extra secret conditions, like needing to go pluck flowers under the full moon or something?”

“What the fuck, Iwa-chan. Who’d curse someone with something like that?”

“Says the man who just kissed fifty people so that he wouldn’t become a toad.”

“And to discover his true love, don’t forget.”

“I’m surprised your true love wasn’t volleyball. Imagine that; a celestial voice whispering “ _volleybaaaallll_ ” into your ear.”

“It was more of a sudden, unshakeable realization, actually. No voices.” Oikawa goes silent long enough for Hajime to turn towards him. “In the interest of full disclosure, you were always going to be one of the last ten. Even if I had to force it on you somehow.” The edge of Oikawa’s mouth quirks slightly. “I figured, why waste this chance to know for certain?”

“Mmmm.”

“...This is the point that you say “I love you too, Oikawa.”

“Why ever for?”

“Uh, because I’ve pretty much confessed to you? And you just kissed me? You’re supposed to reciprocate with a proper declaration and everything.”

“Oh? Have you confessed to me? Must have missed it.”

A fist smacks Hajime’s chest half-heartedly; he catches it easily, lacing his fingers between Oikawa’s longer ones. “Come ooooon, Iwa-chan.”

“Say it again properly first, and I’ll think about it.”

“I love you, Iwa - Hajime.” The words are prompt, and Hajime chuckles, turning to cup Oikawa’s face with his free hand. He really _is_ going to catch a cold at this point, but right now, Hajime’s comfortable, basking in the warmth of Oikawa’s smile.

He supposes whatever he’d done in his past life, monk or murderer, he must have done at least one thing right to have that.

“I love you too, Tooru.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ✧ ─=≡Σ((( つ•̀ω•́)つ Kudos and feedback are very much appreciated (as is sukiyaki, but that's just my hunger speaking.)
> 
> I'm on tumblr [here](http://hweiro.tumblr.com)!


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